


Simple Answers, Wrapped In Questions

by hallowgirl



Category: Camerband - Fandom, Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c., david Cameron - Fandom, ed Miliband - Fandom
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Angry Kissing, Banter, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Cross-Party Relationship, David Does Not Answer Questions, Deadpan Snarkers, First Kiss, Foe Yay, Hate to Love, Insults, Kinda, M/M, Opposites Attract, Politically, Rival Romance, Seriously Just Answer The Question, Slap Slap Kiss, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowgirl/pseuds/hallowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ed folds his arms, takes a deep breath, preparing the words to finally, <em>finally</em> get a straight answer out of Cameron, get through all the useless rhetoric and details and downright irritating <em>posturing</em>_<br/>"Why won't you debate me?"</p><p>In which David won't say why he won't debate, Ed won't leave the answer alone, and trees provide a good place for answering questions. Especially when the answer's rather-unconventional. Based on Dcam refusing to debate Miliband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Answers, Wrapped In Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, complete fiction, never happened, complete imagination.  
> So, since I seem to have got sucked into the Lolitics thing (thank my friend), I decided I might as well write a few more of these. And then I remembered Dcam refusing to debate Miliband in the 2015 election and Miliband never stopped bringing it up, and then the idea wouldn't leave me alone.  
> So here's this little fic of David being irritatingly enigmatic, Ed being irritatingly stubborn and the two of them being irritatingly determined to insult each other. (At least, that's what they tell themselves.) Camerband.  
> Again, COMPLETE FICTION.

Ed Miliband can think of a lot of things that annoy him about David Cameron, but he has to admit, it might surprise some people to know that the matter he's currently seething over is the fact he's waiting for Cameron in the Downing Street Gardens.  
Ed glares at one of the bushes as he waits for Cameron against a wall, fully aware that he probably resembles a sulky schoolchild and the knowledge doing nothing to improve his mood. He reflects bitterly that Cameron will probably brush off the meeting in the garden as being _casual, it's late, it's more relaxing_ , nothing _meant_ by it-  
Ed himself can't quite explain why this decision of Cameron's aggravates him so much, but it's enough that it _does_ , especially when he's already been waiting outside for fifteen minutes.  
His eyes skim over the bushes, the grass and he swallows, his throat dry partly from the idea of another verbal battle with Cameron in just a few moments-this one will be away from the cameras, which Cameron probably _loves_ -and partly from the idea that he tries to keep his mind from straying near most days, because right now, all he can focus on is one day at a time, and the thought that this house and this garden could be _his_ in a few months just serve to send his mind racing, his thoughts tumbling over one another.  
He shakes his head to clear it a little and tugs uncomfortably at his suit in the early-evening dusk settling over the garden. Something about Cameron meeting him out here-the way he sounded so bloody _casual_ about it, as if he had _no idea_ what this might be about-grates at Ed, as if he's already dismissed whatever he's about to hear as completely unimportant-  
"Miliband."  
Ed turns round at the familiar, polished tones to see David Cameron standing next to him. He mustn't have heard Cameron opening the door, crossing the grass. They're just out of sight of the house, and Cameron's standing closer than Ed expected, so that when they both turn at the same moment, their sleeves brush.  
Ed snatches his hand back, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks as Cameron says "Sorry about the wait. Just thought it might be nicer to talk out here, since we've got a bit of warm weather for once." He frowns suddenly. "Are you all right, Miliband?"  
Ed wants to shake himself. He's been standing stock still, lost in thinking over how many times he's had to hear Cameron's voice over the last five years-every Wednesday lunchtime, across from him, crawling under his skin, making Ed want to scream himself hoarse with the childish urge to tell Cameron to just, for once in his privileged life, _shut up_ , that voice that can irk Ed so much he sometimes hears it in his dreams, that voice-  
Ed takes in a deep breath, dragging his thoughts back from Cameron's voice-where had those thoughts even _come_ from? But it's _Cameron_ and so Ed lifts his head to meet his eyes dead on and says "Oh, are you _replying_ , Cameron? I presumed your embargo on debates extended to private now, as well as public."  
He sees the flicker of annoyance cross Cameron's face and feels that irrational little jump of something gleeful inside his chest-the same leap he gets when he manages to leave Cameron stumbling over a question, when the two of them are standing with their eyes fixed on one another, and Ed can see Cameron fumbling with his words, while his own heart beats fast against his chest, a hard, furious pounding of _See, answer that._  
"Miliband, I know you have difficulty embracing some concepts, but quite honestly, I thought you'd understand the idea of a question being answered."  
Ed laughs, the sound spilling out of his mouth before he can stop it. "Cameron, maybe that says something about the novelty of you actually answering a question I ask."  
Cameron shakes his head, and Ed waits for the comeback, the shot about _brothers, polls, Salmond_ -but instead, Cameron's hand falls on his arm and he says, in a voice just above a whisper, "I'll address your concerns in a moment, but let's get a little further away from the house, the kids are asleep."  
Ed rolls his eyes, but follows Cameron reluctantly towards the end of the garden. He might have known Cameron would use the "sleeping children" card-being fathers is one of the few things they have in common, and he might have known it's one of the few that would make Ed think about lowering his voice when he's in this mood.  
(A part of him mutters in a tiny voice that Cameron's one of the few people who would know him that well, and Ed pushes the voice away.)  
Once they're out of sight of the house, hidden under the branches-Ed brushes one out of the way irritably and glares when he spots Cameron's smirk-Cameron stops and turns to face him, tugging at his tie. "Miliband, I know you have an issue with letting things go, but turning up at Downing Street in the middle of the night to demand I answer a question I've already answered several times, is taking things a little too far, even for you."  
"Cameron, I know you have problems with accuracy, but it might have escaped your attention that you have not answered my questions at all." Ed glances up at the branches. "Also, I know you're in denial over a lot of matters, but I didn't know it had extended to describing half past nine as the middle of the night."  
For a moment, Cameron's lips twitch, which gives Ed an unexpected shot of something which feels a little like glee but obviously must be closer to triumph. _Obviously._ "Miliband, I know you enjoy repeating your one point over and over, so I'll ask you to repeat your question."  
Ed narrows his eyes, and Cameron holds up his hands. "Honestly. I want to hear it."  
Ed folds his arms, takes a deep breath, preparing the words to finally, _finally_ get a straight answer out of Cameron, get him to cut through all the useless rhetoric and details and that downright irritating _posturing-_  
"Why won't you debate me?"  
Cameron's eyes widen and Ed feels the blood rush to his cheeks as the words hang in the air. Far from sounding like the challenge he'd meant it as, the demand for Cameron to once, just once, push away all that smugness and rightness and _I-went-to-Etonness_ and just give him a simple bloody _answer_ , the words are higher than he intended, threaded with a thin whine and an edge that sounds almost _needy._  
Ed crosses his arms and waits for Cameron to burst out laughing, for some comment on _apparently, the Right Honourable Gentleman is sulking_ , but Cameron just stares at him for a moment, his eyes roaming up and down Ed's face. Ed squints but in the dusk, he can't make out Cameron's expression.  
Finally, Cameron speaks, his voice low. "Miliband, you do know I have answered this question before? I wasn't invited-"  
Ed interrupts him, shaking his head, because _that_ , he can't let pass. "Cameron, I don't know if you've noticed but you're currently the Prime Minister. I'm sure you would have been able to _somehow_ gain access-"  
"I like your use of the word _currently_ , Miliband." A small smile spreads across Cameron's lips and Ed feels his own twitch treacherously, fighting back his own grin.  
"Don't change the subject, Cameron."  
A flicker of what could almost be hurt crosses Cameron's face but before Ed can open his mouth, Cameron spreads his hands. "Miliband, I've got no idea why you insist on constantly asking questions, when I give you answers and you never believe me-"  
Ed laughs for real now, taking a step closer to Cameron, that same spike of anger and excitement and something else, something that sends his heart racing every time they face each other like this, (and there've been more times over the past five years than Ed could count if he wanted to), something else that's there in his chest, leaving his fists clenched as he says "Cameron, if you actually had the capacity to be honest about something, I'd believe you."  
Cameron's face darkens then, and Ed wonders for one mad moment if Cameron's going to hit him. But then Cameron speaks, his voice low and muffled, as though his teeth are gritted. "Coming from someone leading the Labour party, I think it's a little galling that you have the nerve to tell _me_ to be more honest."  
Ed swallows, his heart pounding. "I didn't know you'd come up with new methods of avoiding the question" he says, struggling to keep his voice composed, while thinking how good it would feel to slam his hands into David bloody Cameron's chest right now, vent some of the frustration surging under his skin. "I'd have thought you'd used them all."  
Cameron steps closer, so they're almost chest to chest, and Ed can feel his body heat. "Avoiding the question? I've answered your bloody question, Miliband. I've answered it several times-"  
"And amazingly, none of them have been satisfactory-"  
Cameron splutters. "If you seriously expect me to go through a whole ream of answers until I come up with one that you deem acceptable, you're less adept at relating to people than I thought, Miliband."  
"Says the man who claims to want to lead the people and didn't even turn up for the debate."  
"Miliband, are you pathologically incapable of understanding the fact that _I was not invited-"_  
"Because you'd already said you wouldn't go."  
"Well, if people are going to hold me to what I said, five years ago-"  
"Cameron, I don't think anyone in this country would hold you to any promise-" Ed breaks off, his heart pounding against his chest and glares, taking in Cameron's blue eyes a few inches from his own, the way Cameron's chest is rising and falling as fast as his own, the flush of his cheeks.  
"I'll listen to a lecture on promises from a lot of people." Cameron's voice is low, that clipped whisper that sends the hairs on the back of Ed's neck rising. "I will _not_ listen to it from the Labour party."  
Ed feels the heat rise in his face again-typical _Cameron_ , bringing up all the mistakes from years ago that Ed had _no effect on whatsoever-who's he to talk about not letting things go_ -and the words spill out before he can snatch them back. "Well, given that you've completely broken your promise about being open to debates, I'll have no choice but to think that you're too scared."  
Cameron's laugh is soft and disbelieving. "Miliband, if you imagine I'm _scared_ of you-"  
Ed's mouth opens and closes for a second, the words battling in his chest, before they burst out in what was intended to be a challenge but comes out more like a shout- _"Why won't you debate me then?"_  
Cameron's hand slams onto his shoulder as he hisses _"Shh!"_ and Ed glares back at him. "Do not _shush_ me, _Cameron-"_  
"My children are _sleeping_ , Miliband-" and Cameron looks genuinely angry now, his fingers digging almost painfully into Ed's shoulder, but Ed doesn't pull away. "I'd appreciate it if they weren't disturbed by _your_ temper tantrums."  
Ed could explode at _this_ but seizing on every last remnant of control he owns, he forces his voice into a harsh whisper. "For a party who can stamp their feet when they don't get their own way, I find it hilarious you accuse _me_ of throwing temper-"  
"I'm only basing it on what I witness each Wednesday lunchtime."  
Ed has to take a breath to stop his words dissolving into an inarticulate _scream_ at Cameron (which, even in the mood he's in, recognizes would hardly help his case) and forces his voice to remain low, even as he almost spits the words at Cameron. "And still, you haven't answered the question."  
It's Cameron's turn to look as though he might scream. "Miliband, before I have to spell it out on a whiteboard for you, let me say it again-I have answered -"  
"Then why won't you take me up on the offer?"  
"What offer?"  
"Any time, anyplace."  
Cameron stares at Ed for a long moment and Ed glares back, trying not to notice how close to Cameron he is, how he can almost smell Cameron's shampoo, how each time one of them flings up an arm they almost graze the other's hand-  
"I don't know why you seem to be so disappointed at not getting the chance to debate me-"  
"And I don't see why you can't give a straight answer to a straight question-"  
"Fine." Cameron stares back at him and that spike of feeling is back in Ed's chest, that strange, raw surge of something that's there whenever he fights with Cameron like this, at the sheer polish of Cameron's answers, the way it feels when a blow hits home, even the sharp fury when Cameron's remark hits back and he's left almost shaking with rage and fury, mind prickling with _Tory arrogance_ and _typical public-school boy_ and stupid, pampered, Bullingdon-club Cameron-  
"Fine what?"  
"Fine. I'll have the debate with you. Like I've said several times now. I keep waiting for you to name a place. Since it seems so important to you."  
Ed blinks. "I should think, for someone running the country, it should be important to _you."_ It's a weaker retort, though, gabbled hastily, because he is not going to let Cameron see that that hit home.  
(Of course that's the only reason it's important to him, that Cameron's trying to wriggle out of it, the way he always does, typical pampered, polished Cameron-of course, that's the only reason-even if he _does_ enjoy debating with Cameron, why _shouldn't_ he, it's only another chance to throw something back at that infuriatingly precise voice, that slight sneer he sometimes gets when he's rattled, to show Cameron that he's wrong, misguided, outdated-)  
Cameron arches an eyebrow. "That's understandable. I mean, that you'd be wrong, since you'll never be in the position of running a country-"  
Ed laughs again but it's bitter this time, utter disbelief colouring his tone. "Even for you, Cameron, that's a pathetic line-"  
"Which I'm sure you'll produce more of in this debate."  
Ed shakes his head, his fists clenched at his side, his chest almost touching Cameron's now, as they stare at each other. Cameron's just a few inches away, both of them gasping for breath, and Ed can feel himself almost trembling with the words that are fighting its' way out of his throat-  
"Well, maybe once we have this debate, you'll be able to actually produce a simple answer to a question."  
Cameron laughs then, those eyes a darker shade of blue this close, or maybe it's just the anger that cracks in his voice as he says "Maybe you'll be able to surprise me and actually produce an accurate answer to any question." His voice is far lower now and a vague part of Ed's brain notes that they're leaning closer and closer to one another, and he can actually feel Cameron's chest moving against his, both of their hearts pounding, as his teeth dig into his own lip hard enough to hurt.  
"Trust me, Cameron" he manages, his voice shaking with anger and frustration and the urge to do something, the air stretched so taut around them that Ed feels as though he might snap, his body trembling with a desperation to _do something, say something_ , so many words and feelings and thoughts piling up like a screaming under his skin, for something, something to happen-"I doubt anything you can do would surprise me."  
Cameron stares at him for a torturously long second and Ed is suddenly too, too aware of their hearts beating and their breath, loud in the air and Cameron's eyes, so, so, overwhelmingly near-  
"Anything I can do?" Cameron says and something in his face has changed, his head tilting to the side and Ed knows immediately that something's about to happen, that silent dare caught in the air between them, that something, something's about to, that something _has_ to-  
And then Cameron's moving and his face is there, hot against Ed's own and then Cameron's mouth is on his, warm and open and desperate and he's kissing him.  
Cameron's mouth is hot and open and against his, _Cameron's mouth is against his_ , and Ed's hands are clutching at Cameron's shoulders, fingers opening and closing and he feels Cameron's hand in his hair, tight and a thumb brushing the back of his neck, and his own hand slides into Cameron's hair, dragging him closer, his own mouth open and gasping and moving-moving, he is kissing Cameron back, _he is kissing Cameron back_ , mouths hot and desperate and frantic and furious, that same surge of feeling he gets whenever they're debating a storm under his skin, almost grinding his mouth into Cameron's, Cameron's lips soft and warm in the middle of it all-  
He doesn't know who pulls back first-they both fall back at once, gasping for breath, Cameron's hand still in Ed's hair. Ed hears a little whine come from the back of his throat as Cameron's lips leave his and realises belatedly that it's a faint sound of protest, and that his head's spinning, heart pounding as if he's just run a marathon. He stares at Cameron who looks as dishevelled as he feels-his cheeks are flushed and his chest is rising and falling as heavily as Ed's own, and his mouth-Ed's eyes flicker down and he finds himself biting down on his lip to muffle the sound that rises in his throat at the sight of Cameron's lips, red and swollen and parted. Ed's head swims and Cameron makes a small, shocked sound in the back of his throat, his eyes glazed and stunned, staring fixedly at Ed's mouth.  
Ed opens and closes his mouth, groping for words that aren't there, his mind scrabbling for something, anything-"You-I-I-"  
Cameron's staring at him and any other time, Ed would utterly relish the sight of Cameron this stunned into silence, his mouth opening and closing. They're still just a couple of inches away from each other and Cameron's mouth is maddeningly close and why is he noticing this, what-why- _how_ -it's _Cameron-_  
Cameron shakes his head slowly and when the words come, they're a whisper, but with a crack of triumph through the middle. "Was that surprising enough for you?"  
Ed stares at him, blinking frantically for a moment but he knows from the way Cameron's eyes flicker to his mouth and back to his eyes again that Ed isn't the only one who's scrambling for words and the thought doesn't make him triumphant at all.  
Instead, he just manages. "No-yes-I-I-"  
A small smirk flickers across Cameron's mouth and Ed feels that spike of feeling, anger hot in his throat, as the words burst out "You started it-"  
Cameron's smirk disappears and he steps forward. "Miliband-"  
"You-you-" Ed knows he's completely inarticulate and that just makes him more furious, because _he just got kissed by David bloody Cameron_ , and that isn't the _worst_ part of what just happened and his cheeks are still flushed and he doesn't need to look down to know what effect the moment is having and _he_ knows _Cameron_ knows and even _that_ isn't the worst bit because _he might have just kissed Cameron back._  
"You-I- _Cameron!"_ he eventually manages, in a curiously explosive spluttering sound which brings that smirk right back to Cameron's lips and Ed moves closer to him without thinking about it, rage lancing through him again. "You-"  
Cameron's lips graze his nose for a moment and Ed blinks at the shiver that sends through him but then Cameron's mouth slides down, pressed against his skin for a moment before their mouths meet again.  
This time, the frantic edge is still there, but it's softer, gentler almost and Ed's about to pull away, even as his mind dissolves into the softness and warmth and their mouths open and sighing together, before Cameron's tongue traces the edge of Ed's bottom lip and Ed lets his mouth fall open with a small, girlish sound suspiciously like a _whimper._ He feels Cameron smirk against his mouth and he'd grit his teeth if it wasn't for the fact that Cameron's tongue is currently sliding against his own, sending sparks through his chest, and leading to his fingers knotting tightly in Cameron's hair.  
He can feel Cameron against him now, their hearts pounding against each other, their hands in each other's hair and Ed rakes his nails-gently, still gently-across the back of Cameron's neck. From the shudder that suddenly passes through Cameron's whole body, Ed guesses he's done something right and does it again, prompting a small groan from Cameron. It's Ed's turn to grin against Cameron's mouth which only lasts a few moments before Cameron gives Ed's bottom lip a gentle bite.  
Ed feels his thoughts scatter, his mind filled with _want_ and _please_ and _Cameron_ and that storm of feeling between them and a sound that sounds almost like a growl comes from his own throat, which tapers off into an embarrassingly high-pitched whimper when Cameron moves his mouth to Ed's jaw, delivering gentle nibbles to his skin before dragging Ed's mouth back to his.  
"Cameron-" he manages to get out and Cameron murmurs something into his mouth, something like _there_ or _now_ or-Ed can't think any more when he finds his arms tight around Cameron's neck, their bodies pressed too tight against one another, and he feels that hardness pressed against him and knows that it's not just him, even though it's _Cameron, it's bloody Cameron-_  
"Ed" is what Cameron breathes into his neck and Ed feels his head spin at the sound of his own name so that when Cameron pulls their mouths back together, Ed can't help but whisper "David" against Cameron's lips before he can stop himself-  
There's another few soft kisses, Cameron's tongue tracing Ed's neck in a way that makes him feel, far too embarrassingly, as if his legs might give way any second and then Cameron pulls back, Ed's hand still tight at the back of his neck. (Ed doesn't like to think that it's the only thing keeping him upright, Cameron isn't the only one who can be selective with the truth.)  
It's only then, with their gasps filling the air and Cameron's blue eyes, now far, far too wide as they roam down Ed's face, does Ed realise just what he's just been doing.  
Cameron- _Cameron_ -kissing David Cameron- _kissing David bloody Cameron!_ -kissing Cameron _back_ -kissing Cameron-and _enjoying_ -  
Ed could come up with a desperate denial but his brain's still fumbling for words and he knows the truth anyway. He enjoyed kissing Cameron-doing a lot _more_ than kissing Cameron-and judging by the look on Cameron's face, they both know it.  
Typical bloody Cameron.  
Ed grasps for words, and can't find any. "I-I-I-" Now that his breathing's a little steadier and his heartbeat's slowed a little, he can feel the heat in his face and judging from the mess of Cameron's hair and the swollen red pout of his lips, he must look much the same.  
Cameron opens his mouth, then closes it again. A long moment passes and then Cameron says, voice very low and containing a hint of barely controlled laughter, "Was that a simple enough answer for you, Miliband?"  
Ed opens and closes his own mouth now, his heart still rioting out of control in his ribs as he stares at Cameron. When the words come out of his mouth, they're faint. "More comprehensive than I'd expect from you, Cameron."  
Cameron smirks and then there's a noise from the house, a noise that has both of their heads turning at once, Ed's heart quickening again, as Cameron steps towards the edge of the trees, his eyes wide, fingers already frantically rearranging his collar and Ed hastily combs his own through his hair, as if that alone will hide everything that's just happened.  
Cameron turns back to him slowly. "We'd better get inside" he says quietly and Ed stares at him, because he's talked about Cameron avoiding the issue before but this would be beyond anything-  
His thoughts are cut off when Cameron reaches out, his lip caught between his teeth-Ed tries to keep his eyes off Cameron's mouth-and slowly, almost hesitantly, touches Ed's cheek with his hand. Ed swallows and tries not to let his lips tremble as Cameron strokes his skin with a few fingers for the briefest of moments before he drops his hand, the touch lingering on Ed's skin so that he feels his heartbeat pick up again.  
Cameron gives him the smallest of smiles, before he turns and sets off towards the house. Ed stands stock still, staring after him until Cameron turns and with a jerk of the head that looks somehow shyer than usual, beckons him on.  
Ed stands still (because old habits die hard and he-he is _not_ at Cameron's beck and call, no matter _what_ -what just...) and tries to understand what on earth just happened. He stares after Cameron, tugs at his collar, hastily repositioning it, adjusting his tie, trying not to think of the way that Cameron looked at him a moment ago, the way that he'd answered Cameron's question without even thinking about it and definitely not the way the thought of this never happening again sending a sick wave of disappointment through his stomach-  
It's not until Ed's already taken a few faltering steps towards the building, struggling to look as composed as possible, that it hits him like a slap in the face and he stops dead.  
Cameron still hasn't answered his question.  
Ed supposes it might look strange for whoever is looking out of the windows of Downing Street to see the Leader of the Opposition violently kicking the doorstep but right now, he's too busy focusing on biting his lip and trying very hard to look as though he is not now in excruciating pain (because no matter how nice his shoes look, they are not a shield against irate door-kicking) and as if he is not currently contemplating _murder._  
From somewhere inside the house, near the back door, he hears a burst of muffled laughter that he recognizes instantly. Ed kicks the step again, hears the laughter increase and narrows his eyes, fighting as hard as he can against the smirk twitching at his own mouth.  
Typical David bloody Cameron.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you like it! :)


End file.
